


Dinner

by terryreviews



Series: Vampire and Hunter [6]
Category: Fright Night (2011), Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Domestic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: Despite not needing food himself, Aro does know how to work a microwave.
Relationships: Aro (Twilight)/Peter Vincent
Series: Vampire and Hunter [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539046
Kudos: 62





	Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you continue to enjoy this ongoing saga. I do intend to have them bond over things, share more domestic time together outside of just nurturing/mature vampire and young/reckless human. I am hoping, if I continue these drabbles, to expand upon the ideas presented, explore both characters. This may mean rewatching the movies I'm basing this all off of but eh...
> 
> Thank you for your reading, for your comments, for your kudos. They are all greatly appreciated.

The microwave beeped in the other room, the smell of chicken and gravy filling his nose. He did not like the smell of food. Watching Peter enjoy it, yes, but smelling it was another matter.

Peter sat on the small sofa, bottle between his legs, hand on the neck. The tv was tuned to some b-movie, black and white with a lot of fictitious science babble.

A plate came into his periphery. His eyes flicked to it before going back to the movie.

“What's that?” His voice gruff and weak.

“Dinner,” Aro answered, arm extended, perfectly still.

“Don't want it,” Peter took a swig, the fluid sloshing audibly against the glass.

Aro placed the plate, balancing fork and knife on it, onto the small table next to the sofa and said, “it is there for you if you want it.”

Crossing the room, Aro took a comfortable chair, taking up a newspaper printed in Italian. Peter guessed it must've been something he brought from home or something from one of those newsstands that has all of the languages.

Five minutes passed. Aro read Peter drank. Neither spoke.

“Is this from the” Peter hesitated on the word, “dinner from a few nights back?”

“Yes,” Aro did not look up from his paper, “I happened to notice that most of the containers were still in there. I take it,” he closed the paper, folding it up on his lap, “that you haven't eaten in a few days.”

“Is that why you're playing mother?”

Aro's expression was mixed with contradictory micro-expressions, amusement, fondness, frustration, settling on a pleasing, easy-going smile, “I am merely protecting my investment. You are very valuable to me Peter.”

Peter said nothing as he looked down at his lap, cheeks flushing a bit, “Yeah, sure I am.”

“You are,” the sincerity in Aro's voice perked Peter's eyes up, “in more ways than one.”

“Stop that, and don't ask what, you know what,” Peter snapped, more subdued than normal.

Aro's attention turned to the tv. After a moment or two of silence, the clink and scrape of utensils on porcelain meeting his ears. Followed by some very loud chewing.

“How do you know how to heat up food?”

“I guessed. I read almost anything including microwave instructions, I drew upon osmosis of information gathered from conversation and media. That, and the simple process of smelling it. Is it not hot enough?”

“No, it's fine,” Peter took another bite, “funny though how posh food and regular food taste the same after being reheated. Could've paid five or forty for this and wouldn't know the difference.”

“Is it at least good?” He hadn't eaten food in ages.

“Yeah. Juicy.”

They lapsed into silence, both of them pretending to watch the movie.


End file.
